For two reasons. One, she threw my brilliant idea to make us alot of money out the window. And two, I bribed her...to start doing her blog more...and to let me give it out to people...which has backfired because now she is waiting for me to update mine. Love you Kristin!
Returning to the blog...feels right to start with a message I heard from our Pastor Kurt. The Prodigal Son. Specifically the older brother. Which I totally see in myself...and was brought to tears. The one thing that stuck out that I find I have to remind myself daily of is "Sometimes sin just isn't the things we do wrong, but the reasons we do right."
Talk about a message just for me! Since I was little, I was the good daughter. The one that my parents didn't have to worry about. The daughter that everyone always depended on. The child that you could assume would just take care of things. And don't get me wrong, I am glad to do it. Most of the time. But I can't help but feel, and after 27 years mind you, just a little bit resentful. Ok. Alot resentful. Why wasn't I allowed to be the one who didn't have to follow the rules and take care of things? Why wasn't it ok for me to go out and do whatever till whenever and not have anything be said about it? Why wasn't I ever the one who just took time for herself...not caring what people thought of me when I did it? Or did that really mean that I did care what people thought of me? After all these things that I have done and continue to do, I always felt it was never good enough. I never felt good enough.
Now we're getting down to the nitty gritty. Did I not do those things because I was fearful of what people would think of me? Or did I not do them because I was trying to control the situation and stay 'good.' Because in 'staying good,' I was hoping that they would see me as good, and therefore love me more. But here's the amazing part. God's love is not bound by our goodness or badness. If you are bad, He doesn't love you any less. And if you are good, He doesn't love you any more.
I always looked at this parable as the younger brother coming home. I never focused on the older brother. Because even then the focal point for me was the fact that all anyone cared about was the return of the younger brother. I was mad! I was angry....for the older brother. And for the older brother that lived in me. But I didn't want to feel this way! I want to feel loved...and secure...and understood. And then it hit me. Like someone taking a bat and smacking me in the head. I was loved. I was secure. I was understood. By my Father. By someone who would never let me down. By someone who would never leave me. And His love and grace is sufficient enough. I started to slowly realize that the father in this story must have felt so conflicted. As my parents must have felt and feel. They must feel so torn, that what they were doing wasn't enough. That no matter what they do it just isn't good enough. Once I started to open my eyes to a new way of thinking, a new way of feeling came. And with a new way of feeling, a new way of giving. I have to stop being the older brother of the prodigal son - let go of my resentment, know that we all are doing the best we can, and come into the love of the Father! The love of the Father that will never waiver and never let me go. Now that's a story worth living!
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